


Close Encounters of the Unlikely Kind

by Skywinder



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-War, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death Fix, Dark Character, Espionage, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Possible Out of Character, Threats of Violence, Veiled Death Threat, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skywinder/pseuds/Skywinder
Summary: In every war, as in life, there is always a possibility of events playing out beyond what actually does occur should a choice be made differently.  This piece explores a few of said choices, and meetings which could have been, but never were."Chances lost are hope's torn up pages"- Five for Fighting,ChancesChapter 1:  Jazz & Starscream (G1) - Dealing With the DevilChapter 2:  Prowl & Skywarp (G1) - Game of SpiesChapter 3:  Ratchet & Wing (IDW) - One Dark and Stormy NightChapter 4:  Prowl & Jazz (Bayverse) - The Lucky OnesWritten for Transformers Summer Gift Exchange 2018





	1. Jazz & Starscream: Dealing with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkDanc3r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDanc3r/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Request 4_   
>  _Generation One_
> 
> _Jazz/Starscream is my fiancee’s OTP, a match to my Prowl/Skywarp. She can’t write, but I promised to offer up her request as part of my own. Much as my OTP, Jazz and Starscream are just such an interesting combination of personalities that it’s a blast to read.:"_
> 
> Here is my response to that particular request. Not sure if it was quite what was wanted (even with the requester saying things could be non-romantic), but I did my best at writing the interaction between the two. Also had a hard time coming up with an idea at first then I saw the bunny idea at this link: https://tf-bunny-farm.dreamwidth.org/390936.html#cutid1
> 
> _10\. A Decepticon sniper shoots Jazz._
> 
> From there, the idea sprung up of having a little agreement between Jazz and Starscream, and how such an incident could possibly affect it.
> 
> While the quotes used here may not quite fit the title of the chapter, I think they are certainly very apt ones for both the characters.

* * *

_“You’re a tough guy, but I’m a nightmare wrapped in the apocalypse.”_ ― James S.A. Corey, _Gods of Risk_

 _“If you want to control someone, all you have to do is to make them feel afraid.”_ _―_ Paulo Coelho

* * *

_Damn it._

Starscream glared at the viewscreen of the computer console he was sitting at, showing the results of the latest simulation he'd been running concerning the new energon collector he'd come up with.

It had not been a resounding success.

 _Why won't it work?_   he thought, running his fingers over the keys. _I've gone over everything.  What am I missing?_

The device he'd come up with was supposed to gather energon from the remaining wells and mines on the planet, and do so in a way that wouldn't leave a massive amount of destruction behind.  Unfortunately, every simulation had failed and no matter how many adjustments he'd made, the machine just wouldn't work.

He rubbed at his optics.  _Maybe I should just quit for the night.  Or call it quits on this experiment completely._

Unfortunately, he couldn't do that, knowing that Megatron wanted results.  Or else.

He snorted. 

"May as well call it a night.  Maybe a good recharge will help me figure this out," he muttered.

He began to straighten up to get out of his seat...

When the next thing he knew, there was the sharp feel of a vibroblade dagger at the back of his neck.

Starscream froze.  _What the frag?!_

Before he could do anything else, a calm, relaxed sounding voice made itself known.

"Hello, Screams."

Starcream felt every strut in his frame seize up as he recognized the speaker.

 _How the frag did_ he _get in here?!_ the Seeker thought, half-panicked.  Prime's pet spy had managed to get inside the lab that even Soundwave had never been able to penetrate, thanks to the revolving coding on the entry keypad and the electrified grate on the vents.  Not to mention the numerous alarms and traps he'd set up in case someone _did_ make it in.  He'd specifically set things up so no one could sneak in without his catching them.

But then again, the Autobot Spec. Ops commander always did enjoy a challenge, the Decepticon SIC reflected.

Painfully aware of that dagger at his neck, Starscream was careful not to make any sudden moves and replied as calmly as he could manage: "Hello, Jazz.  What brings you here?"

A dark chuckle.  "Not going ta ask me how I got in?"

In spite of the danger he was in, Starscream couldn't help but ask casually, "Would you even tell me if I asked?"

Jazz's reply came easily.  "Nah.  Probably not."

The dagger tip now moved away from the Seeker's neck, but Starscream didn't dare relax.

Instead, he asked again, "What brings you here?"

When Jazz replied, Starscream could hear a dark edge in his voice that hadn't been there initially.  "We need ta talk."

"Concerning what?" Starscream responded carefully.

"Well, it seems I had a little _accident_ on the battlefield not too long ago."  The edge had become darker.  "At Tyger Pax. That ring any bells?"

_Oh, Primus._

Starscream felt his Spark sink.

About ten orns before, Megatron had made the decision to attack Tygar Pax in retaliation for the base the Autobots had destroyed at Helex.  It had been a very vicious battle, with heavy damages taken on both sides.  In the aftermath, Soundwave's little minions had reported that Jazz had been shot by one of their best snipers.  Close to the Spark area, the report said.  Megatron had gloated at the news, pleased that one of their most dangerous enemies had been removed from the war.  No information had been received since regarding the Autobot spy's condition since then, in spite of all attempts.

Starscream hadn't been happy at hearing the news initially, knowing what it could possibly mean for him.  But as time went on with no word, he'd begun to think that perhaps Jazz had died after all.  The idea hadn't been entirely unwelcome, even in spite of the consequences it could bring to him, so the Seeker had allowed himself to relax.

But it seemed he'd let his guard down too soon.  _That fragging medic of theirs must have pulled off a miracle again_ , the tri-color mech thought bitterly.  And now Jazz had come to collect.

Just his luck.

"We had a deal, Screams," Jazz said icily.

"I know," Starscream replied through gritted teeth.

"You keep your fellow 'Cons off _my_ back...,"  Starscream once more felt the tip of the dagger at the back of his neck, "and Prowl's missions ta have _you_ assassinated somehow fail ta meet their objective."  The pressure deepened, and Starscream could feel a thin trickle of energon running down his neck.  "I don't like it when someone tries ta double-cross me, ya know."

Starscream's first instinct was to lash back with another snide reply.  But he curbed that urge quickly.  Jazz was too clever and far too dangerous to play that particular game with when he was in a vengeful frame of processor.  As he was now.

The Seeker preferred his Spark to remain pulsing, thank you very much.

Not to mention he knew very well that his deal with Jazz, made in the early orns of the war, could prove to be very beneficial for him should things start to go south for the Decepticons.  At the very least, it would buy him enough time to disappear and change his identity before the Autobots could catch up to him.  He wasn't fool enough to think he could outrun Jazz if the spy was ordered to give chase, but he also knew that if there was one thing Jazz enjoyed most of all, it was matching wits with a worthy opponent.  And he'd long ago decided that he enjoyed the challenge Starscream gave him, hence his approaching him and offering the deal.  He wouldn't kill the Seeker unless he was given a reason to.

And thanks to a fragger called Shockstorm, he may well have gotten his reason.

"I didn't double-cross you," he hissed, inwardly cursing the sniper for that ill-timed decision to shoot Jazz.  Not to mention Megatron, who had decided it was a _good_ idea to attack Tyger Pax in the _first_ place, no matter what the provocation had been.

"Somehow I doubt that."

Starscream felt a flare of anger rise up at those words, but managed to rein it in with difficulty, knowing his next words could very well decide whether Jazz would let him live past this night, not to mention salvage the deal they'd made.

Snapping at Jazz right here, right now, would not be a good idea.

"You think I'm a fool, Jazz?"  Starscream pitched his own voice low and dark. "You think I don't know the consequences should anything happen to you?  You think I don't know my survival hinges on your own?!  It wouldn't serve _me_ to have _you_ killed!"

"Then tell me what happened."  Jazz's voice came out in a soft hiss.  The pressure from the dagger deepened once more.  "And make it quick.  I'm getting bored here."

Starscream took a deep intake.  "The fact of the matter is that Megatron assigned me to another part of the battlefield.  I didn't hear that you were there until after the fact."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," Starscream whispered.  "I think he's been getting suspicious of late, too.  When I asked him why I was assigned to the area where the main forces weren't expected, he said something about how he had no interest in losing more mechs to 'friendly fire'."

There was no answer from behind him, though the pressure of the blade didn't leave his neck.  But it didn't increase, either, which Starscream hoped was a good sign.

"Keep goin'," Jazz finally said, after several kliks had passed by.

"In light of his suspicions, I couldn't make any moves to leave my part of the battlefield, Jazz.  You _know_ how he is.  He would have accused me of treason and had me executed.  It wouldn't have mattered what the truth was."

Another silence.  Then, "I'll accept that."

Starscream started to relax, only to tense up once more at the mech's next words:  "On two conditions."

The Seeker would have gulped if he could have.  "And those would be?"

"One, I want the designation and location of the mech who shot me," Jazz hissed.  "And two, you make yourself scarce during the next skirmish so someone I know can see ta it that Megatron has an 'accident' of his own."

"I'll be suspected!" Starscream yelped as he turned around, his features contorted in fear and optics bright.

The smile that appeared on Jazz's face made Starscream's energon run cold.  It reminded him of how a turbofox looked right before it killed his prey.  "Not my problem.  You want that deal of ours ta stay intact, you'll do _exactly_ as I ask."

 _'Ask', my aft_ , the Seeker thought bitterly.  But he held his tongue.  He was nothing if not a survivor and he wasn't about to sacrifice the only possibility he had of escaping with his Spark online. 

"Shockstorm.  The mech who shot you is designated Shockstorm.  Ice-blue mech with yellow optics and armblades, and a hover car alt-mode.  He was transferred to Tarn about half an orn ago."  The Seeker poured it all out quickly, not allowing himself to care in the slightest that he'd just condemned one of the best Decepticon snipers to death.

 _Better him than me_ , he thought frantically.

The feral grin became wider.  "A pleasure doing business with you, Screams.  Now, if you don't mind, I have a date in Tarn I need ta make.  If you'll excuse me..."

Starscream nodded numbly and sank back into his seat, turning his head to face the console which still shone with the light of that failed simulation.

It was about twenty kliks before he dared move again, wanting to be absolutely sure Jazz was gone.

Once he was finally certain he was alone, he leaned forward and released a heavy intake.

It was done.  He'd managed to placate Jazz and win his life for a little while longer.

He'd given up the mech who shot Jazz.

Now all he had to do was stand by and let Jazz's cohort (who had to be either Bluestreak or Perceptor) give Megatron a life-threatening injury of his own.

And how fun the aftermath of _that_ was going to be.

_Damn it all._

Starscream laid his head down on that console.

He should never have made that deal.

_Damn you, Jazz._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the story: _**Never**_ frag off the most dangerous mech alive.


	2. Prowl & Skywarp:  Game of Spies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Request 3_   
>  _Generation One_
> 
> _Prowl/Skywarp is my OTP. I don’t know why, but I love the pairing of the reckless prankster and the logical Cop. It works beautifully in my head somehow, and I love seeing how people put them together."_
> 
> Not sure I quite nailed these two when it comes to their interaction together, but I did my best. Hope you like it.

* * *

_"In this job, you handpick your people. You need the best. You need the most loyal. You need the most ruthless.”_ ― Karen Traviss, _Halo: The Thursday War_

* * *

**_ Ruins of Praxus _ **

_Where the pit is that fragger?_

Skywarp crept carefully into the basement area of the old Enforcer headquarters.

 _Said he'd be here when I arrived, and I can't pick up a trace of him anywhere.  And here I went to all this trouble to bribe Octane to distract those Pit-spawns of Soundwave's.  Not to mention had to call in a few favors from Starscream to cover for my absence if it_ was _noted._

He grimaced as he looked around the room at the shattered desks and remains of dead frames.  He shuddered.  _Fragger knows how to pick his locations, though why he'd want the meeting to be here at this mausoleum is another question.  Screamer and I weren't even here that orn..._

On the other hand, it was more than likely that his boss wanted to remind he and Starscream of their failure to warn him.  As if they could ever forget...

He shuddered at the memory.  It hadn't been their fault that they hadn't known about the mission until the squadron was on their way to Praxus.  By that point, it had been too late to pass along any warning.

It had been the most furious that Skywarp had ever seen him.  Starscream had managed to placate their handler by telling him that not only had their Air Commander assigned them elsewhere, he'd also left them in the dark that the attack on Praxus was about to take place.

Air Commander Zincflight had met with an unfortunate accident about half a vorn later while at a training session in the remains of Vos.  And Skywarp was in no doubt about who was behind said training accident.

He couldn't say he was sorry about it, though.  It had certainly raised Starscream into a position where they could gain more information for their boss.

Skywarp's wings flicked as they picked up the field of an approaching mech.

He turned towards the stairwell leading towards the door outside.

"Hello, Prowl."

"Skywarp."

From the deeper darkness of the stairwell, a winged black and white mech stepped into the half-destroyed lower level of the building the Seeker was standing in.  He was wearing a deadpan expression, and his posture stiff and straight.  Ignoring the damage and the pieces of deactivated frames, he gazed coldly at the Seeker as he crossed his arms.  "You're late.  We agreed to meet a joor ago."

Skywarp glared at the cold opticed Autobot SIC.  _Damn fragger_. 

"Well, excuuuuse me!  I can't just leave the base on a whim, you know.  It took some time to get my alibi prepared and I got out as soon as I was able.  Besides, you said you'd be here when I got here, which makes you as late as I was."

The black and purple Seeker knew he shouldn't be arguing with the tactician, but at the moment, he didn't quite care for Prowl's attitude.  It had been a stressful few orns, and promised to be even more so in the near future.

Prowl merely shrugged and raised a browridge at the Seeker's outburst.  "And I am one of the highest placed officers in the Autobots," he reminded Skywarp.  "Meaning I have my own responsibilities and duties to handle.  Which also means that I too can't just leave 'on a whim'.  And yet I made time to arrange this meeting to learn if you and Starscream had been able to discover any details about the visits Megatron has been making to Darkmount lately.  Further, I did all in my power to arrange it at a time which would be convenient for you, Skywarp.  You've left the base before alone to do solo patrols to, as you put it, harass Autobots.  No one should be suspicious of you going out by yourself, even if it's ostensibly against orders."

Skywarp deflated, unable to argue with his old friend's logic.  "The only reason they don't give me trouble is because of my Sigma ability, but after the recent raid on Helex, they're doubling down on the restrictions.  Meaning I have to become even more clever in sneaking out."

Prowl frowned.  "How serious have these restrictions become?"

"Serious enough.  I can't leave base alone now, and have to fly with a Trinemate when I do.  Since Megs decided Starscream should stay where Soundwave can keep an optic on him, that means I have to fly with Thundercracker.  And we've both let you know how loyal he is to the Decepticons."

A nod.  "Indeed.  You are certain he will not sway his allegiances?  We've heard rumors he has doubts about the cause."

Skywarp snorted.  "Yeah, he doesn't like some of the things that have been happening of late.  But he hates the Senate for what happened to Vos more.  He lost a bunch of friends and comrades to the attack and still gets angry when he talks about it.  Ain't no way he'll be willing to switch sides.  As much as he dislikes some things, he'd die before he became an Autobot.  Considers it 'bending his neck to a corrupt regime'."

"Pity, as it would have been useful to have him on our side," Prowl said softly.  "But nothing to be done for it, so I'll let Prime know not to count on him as a potential ally."  Switching gears, he replied, "So what of this information?"

Skywarp reached into his subspace and pulled out some datasticks.  "Here.  All we could get what's behind the visits to Darkmount, not to mention the latest security set-up for the base.  Shockwave's taking no chances, that's for sure."  And well he shouldn't, considering that the gestalt project was a personal one for him.  As for Skywarp, he thought the idea of merging mechs and Sparks in that manner was completely disturbing.  It was no wonder he'd requested Flatline's help.  Both mechs were sadistic, crazy fraggers in Skywarp's opinion and needed to be put down.

Maybe Jazz would finally be allowed to do it this time.  One could hope, anyway.

Prowl took the datasticks from him, and looked them over.  "These will be of great help."  He put them in his own subspace, then focused again on Skywarp, a hint of concern entering his optics.  "In light of what you said concerning the increased difficulty of getting information to us, I will be making arrangements with Prime and Jazz for the time being.  I will keep you and Starscream apprised."

"Not a bad idea.  Hard to say if Soundwave suspects anything; fragger knows how to play his cards close to his chest.  And I'll be the one to do the drop-offs.  Since Megatron sees Starscream as a traitor, they'll be looking right at him first if they begin to suspect a leak.  Me, I'm the dumb fragger who's always screwing up.  It should be okay for now."

Prowl hummed thoughtfully.  "For now.  Still, will you be needing us to pull you out soon?"

Skywarp frowned as he thought over the events of the past few orns.  "Not right now, but might be a good idea to start putting plans together for that possibility.  That is, if you can't convince Prime to have Megatron assassinated."

Prowl's doorwings flicked in irritation.  "Jazz and Mirage would willingly do it, make no mistake about that.  But Prime is still convinced he can reason with him."

Skywarp snorted.  "It'll be a cold day in the Pit before that happens.  Mech wants to win at any cost.  He ain't going to listen to reason."

"As I have said before."  Prowl shook his head.  "In any case, let us know if the situation changes.  I have contacts off-world I can get you and Starscream to should something go wrong."

"I will, and I'll let him know what you just said.  He'll be glad to hear that subject was finally brought up.  I know he was planning on getting a message to you the next time Mirage visited asking about what to do should things go south."

Prowl nodded.  "In any case, I should not keep you here any longer.  It is close to the time your patrol circuit ends and it wouldn't do for you to be missed."

Skywarp suddenly found himself unable to resist getting a small teasing jab in.  "Aw, you're worried about me!  I knew you had a Spark in that chest of yours!"

Prowl simply raised a browridge.  "I am simply concerned about losing an asset I've invested much time in cultivating.  That is all."

Skywarp smirked.  "Whatever helps you recharge, Prowl.  We both know you'd miss me if I wasn't around to keep you from getting too boring."

Prowl replied dryly, "I would miss your antics as much as I would miss Jazz calling me 'Prowlie'."

Skywarp grinned.  "Sure you would, Prowl."  Then the smile faded.  "But seriously, I'll be careful.  I know what's at stake here.  Starscream and I both knew the risks when you approached us that orn after Vos was attacked and brought us to the Prime.  We know very well what could happen if we're caught."

Prowl's features seemed to darken.  "True.  Still, there is no point in taking unnecessary chances.  I will send Mirage over with the new arrangements as soon as I can."

Skywarp nodded.  "Gotcha.  Take care of yourself, Prowl."

Prowl stepped back.  "You as well, Skywarp.  May the winds guide you safely."

Skywarp felt his intakes hitch slightly at the words of the ancient blessing spoken by a non-flier.  He bowed his head in acknowledgement and, not trusting himself to speak, activated his Sigma ability to take him back towards the Decepticon base.

* * *

"Got what you needed?"

Prowl turned towards the dark stairwell towards the sound of the voice, feeling a slight twinge of irritation towards the figure standing in the shadows.  "Yes, I did.  And what are you doing here, Jazz?"

"Wanted to make sure that Skywarp wasn't followed.  He's not kidding when he says Megs is getting more paranoid by the orn," the saboteur replied as he stepped into the room.  "I've gotten word from Mirage that he's got Starscream watched constantly by those little fraggers of Soundwave's.  And Skywarp's frequent absences are being noted and questioned."

"So my suggestion of finding a new method of information drops was well-timed."

"Yeah," Jazz agreed.  "But I think it would be better ta meet with Prime and get a couple plans together ta get them out of there once we're done with the next mission.  Pit, I'll go extract them myself during the mission if I have ta."

Prowl frowned.  "You're sure?"

Jazz's face became serious and his visor dimmed.  "The moment we hit Darkmount, which I'm assuming is what the information you got has ta do with, considering our recent discussion, Megs will know for sure he has a spy in his ranks.  I know what that Seeker means ta ya, Prowl and if he kills Skywarp, I know we'll have lost more than one of our best spies."

Prowl looked back towards the spot where Skywarp had stood.

He still clearly remembered that day long ago when he'd approached his former fellow Academy student and asked him if he would be willing to assist the Autobots.  He'd been taking a chance, knowing the Senate had just destroyed Vos, and the Seekers would be enraged over the event.  But he'd taken a chance that the relationship between he and Skywarp would prove stronger than his anger.

And to a point, he'd been proven correct.  Skywarp had indeed been furious over what had happened to Vos, but his anger had been directed mainly towards Megatron for inciting enough fear that the Senate had believed it would be best to destroy the city.  He'd brought along another Seeker who'd felt very similarly to him.  Both Skywarp and Starscream had been very willing to do whatever it took to help bring down the Decepticons from within, particularly if it meant avenging Vos.

Over the vorns, they'd proven to be among the Autobots' strongest assets, and had been key to a number of successful missions.

But now, that string of luck seemed to be at an end.

And Prowl was faced with a difficult decision.  One he'd secretly hoped he'd never be called on to make.

He stared at the empty space in silence for a few kliks, then turned to the saboteur.

"Jazz."

The silver saboteur straightened to attention at the hard tone in the other mech's voice.  "Yeah?"

Prowl smiled coldly.

He would be damned if he lost anymore to Megatron.

"I have a new order for you..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...
> 
> That certainly took a turn I didn't expect.
> 
> Moving on...
> 
> For those who might disagree with the concept of Skywarp being a spy, I direct you to [this story](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4770548/1/Snooping-Quandary) authored by cmdrtekk back in January 2009. As far as I know, there has never been another on that particular notion since she posted it (though have been several concerning Starscream and one concerning the whole trine), and the author has never come here from FFnet. In turn, she was inspired by a post at the at the old TF Bunny Farm at LiveJournal, which has since been [moved over to Dreamwidth](https://tf-bunny-farm.dreamwidth.org/79016.html#cutid1) . Specifically, she was inspired by this one:
> 
> _1\. Thundercracker would have left the Decepticons a long time ago if it wasn't for Skywarp. He felt that no one would watch after the crazy seeker and he would get hurt. So, he stay against his better judgement. That was until he found out that Skywarp was actually a Autobot double agent._
> 
> Having long wanted to try my own hand at this, I decided to give it a go for this challenge. Hope it was passable. ^_^


	3. Ratchet & Wing:  One Dark and Stormy Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Request 2_   
>  _IDW_
> 
> _Need more Wing in my life! Wing/Ratchet/Drift would be especially awesome. I’m a sucker for that trio. But, really, anything where Wing lives and gets to keep annoying the Knights works for me._
> 
> Hope you're willing to settle for Wing and Ratchet interaction. Never wrote Drift, and wasn't sure I could pull it off successfully
> 
> AU due to a character surviving who died in canon. We are also pretending that some of the more recent events in IDW have never happened.
> 
> Also, I do apologize if WIng is somewhat out of character. It has been several years since I read the _Drift_ IDW comic series and many of the fanfiction stories that are out there seem to make him a pretty angsty (or slutty, depending on whose opinion you get when you ask) character. I found it difficult to strike a balance, and hope I managed well enough, as minor characters can be hard to grasp sometimes. Which is the main reason I wrote strictly from Ratchet's POV.
> 
> Takes place post-war.

* * *

_“In his face there came to be a brooding peace that is seen most often in the faces of the very sorrowful or the very wise. But still he wandered through the streets of the town, always silent and alone.”_   ― Carson McCullers, _The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter _

* * *

_What a Primus-forsaken night_ , Ratchet thought as he gazed out the window of his clinic at the acid rain storm outside.  It was coming down in fierce torrents, one of the strongest the Autobot CMO had seen over the course of his life, and he'd seen a few.

He shook his head.  _So much for heading out to Maccadam's for some engex._ He'd originally thought that would be a good way to wind up the cycle, given how slow his days had been of late, since the war had ended about three vorns before.

Ratchet supposed he shouldn't be too surprised that he wasn't getting many patients.  Most of the hot spots that produced Cybertronian Sparks were just starting to recover, meaning there was no new influx to the population and wouldn't be for quite some time to come.  And the population that _had_ returned to Cybertron was approximately a quarter of that which had left.  It was impossible to tell whether or not they were the only survivors, as the ships which had fled during the Exodus had all become separated once they'd cleared Cybertron, but it didn't look good for their future as a race if things didn't turn around soon.

On the upside, at least things were starting to be rebuilt and with the Council of Worlds was trying to broker treaties that had the potential  to bring in much needed supplies to help that happen faster then it had been.  At least that's what Drift had told him, and he'd probably know, having decided to join Ironhide's guard corps.  Most of their work tended to revolve around protecting that group.

For his own part, Ratchet preferred to stay out of politics.  He'd seen too many shady things before the war to ever feel comfortable to take part in such business.  And the politics involved in the war effort had cemented that desire to stay out once it had ended.

Shaking his head again, Ratchet pulled himself away from the window and darkened the plexiglass screen.  He needed to close up the clinic if no one was coming, and since he couldn't head out for the night cycle, he may as well update some files he'd been intending to get to for the past few orns.

No sooner had he completed that thought then the buzzer to the clinic entrance sounded.

 _Well, guess I will have a patient to tend to tonight_ , Ratchet thought as he headed back towards the door.   _Or perhaps it's just someone who got caught out in the storm. Though who could be out in weather like this beats the Pit out of me._

Either way, he'd have some company for the night, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.  While he'd never been the most social mech in the universe, he didn't mind having the chance to sit down and talk with someone once in a while.  Someone besides old war comrades, that is.  Only so often one could talk about old war stories without it all becoming maudlin.  Someone new wasn't a bad prospect.  As long as it wasn't a former Decepticon, that was.

In any case, whoever was at the door hadn't left off at the buzzer.  It was still ringing loudly and sharply as Ratchet approached the door.  "Hold your fragging horses!  I'm coming!" he yelled.

He coded it open.  "Primus damn it!  Have some patience, why don't you!"

As the door opened completely, it revealed a bulky appearing figure standing just outside.  As the figure began moving into the light cast by the clinic into the outside, the former Autobot CMO got a clearer look at the individual.

The figure (a mech, he supposed, judging by the size) wore a very heavy beige colored cloak and cape, with cloths of similar make and coloration covering their limbs, both protecting him from the acid rain as well as concealing his identity.  Ratchet also noticed smoke rising from portions of the cloth, a clear sign that the acid rain was beginning to take a toll on the fabric.  As the person stepped closer, he could make out what seemed to be yellow optics glowing from deep within the hood.  There seemed to be a strange sort of intensity in those optics that took Ratchet slightly aback.  He'd seen a very similar intensity before in another set of optics, but this was very definitely not Drift.

Pushing down the unsettling feeling, Ratchet grunted at the unknown mech.  "What brings you here?  I'm about to close up for the night."  He might want company, but frag if he was just going to show that to this mech, whoever he was.

The hood constricted slightly, indicating a nod.  "I do apologize for disturbing your peace, but I just arrived in Iacon less than a joor ago, and got caught out in the storm.  I noticed the light in your window right before the shutter closed and came here, hoping to find shelter until the storm passes, if that is well with you."

Ratchet raised a browridge.  _Talks like a priest-educated mech._   Meaning he was probably from the high-caste, as only mechs from that strata of society could afford such an education.  The medic didn't normally give a slag about rank and privilege.  He might have been forged, and may have been the Senate's Chief Medical Officer at one time, thanks to that circumstance of creation, but his Spark had always been driven to give medical care to anyone, whoever they may be.

He had no high opinions of such mechs, either.  Most in the high-caste had always looked down on the lower strata of society, particularly the cold-constructed, deeming them inferior.  But then again, there were mechs like this one, who seemed to at least have enough manners to ask to come in instead of demanding it, as so many of his class did.

That decided Ratchet.  He did a quick scan for energy weapons.  Finding none, he replied, "Far be it from me to turn a mech in need away.  Come in."

As the figure stepped into the clinic, Ratchet stepping back to allow the other mech an easier entrance, he noticed a large sword strapped to his visitor's back, a sword with a green jewel at the top of the hilt.  Again, Ratchet couldn't help but draw another comparison to Drift, who also carried a pair of such weapons, only in his case, he wore them at his sides.

For his part, Ratchet believed the weapons to be archaic and useless in this day and age, but he couldn't argue he'd seen Drift use them effectively in spite of that.  He'd also made attempts to teach Rodimus how to use them too, though he'd never explained who his own instructor had been.  He'd always turned the subject away quickly whenever he was asked.  The medic suspected there to be quite the story behind it, but had figured it was Drift's own business.

Right now, though, there were greater concerns to worry himself over than Drift and his mysterious instructor.

"Follow me, if you would.  I have some engex upstairs in the cooler, and your...get-up," he said, motioning to the still smoking garb, "Can have the chance to be decontaminated."

Another nod.  "Your hospitality is welcomed, medic.  It is quite the relief to find myself welcomed here on Cybertron."  There was no mistaking the genuine gratitude in the mech's voice.

Ratchet couldn't help but smile in spite of himself.  It had been a long time since anyone besides Drift had displayed any sort of warm feelings towards him.  "Think nothing of it.  What any bot with even a smidgen of decency would do."

"Indeed,"  the mech replied.  "It seems to have become a rare commodity over these long vorns of war."

Which was something Ratchet couldn't argue with, he found.  "Yeah, but maybe with the war over, mechs will start behaving in a more civilized manner again," he replied.

For a few astroseconds, the mech didn't immediately reply, but then said wearily, "We shall see."

Something about the mech's tone struck Ratchet as off, but he decided to let it go for the moment as they approached the decontamination tube he used for cleaning his equipment.  "Here, get those coverings off you, and into that contraption.  They'll clean the acid rain off over the next few joors," he said.

The mech seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then nodded.  Removing the sword first, he handed it to Ratchet.  "Would you mind tending to this while I do so?"

Ratchet took the weapon carefully from the other mech and watched as he slowly removed the cape and other cloths he wore.  His optics widened as more of the mech became visible.  _Primus, he looks a lot like Drift._

Not completely of course, as the mech in front of him was clearly a flier, though his wings weren't quite as wide as that of a Seeker's, and there were some more red highlights on his head than were on Drift's, but the general make was the same, indicating they'd likely come from the same mold.

There was also an air of weariness about the mech's features.  He was smiling, but there was something missing from that smile.  It didn't seem to be reaching his optics.  Ratchet frowned, but said nothing while the mech placed all the clothing in the tube and closed it.

Ratchet handed the sword back to the flier and then hit the button that would start the cleansing.  As the machine began vibrating, he said, "Stairs are right this way."

Another nod as the mech replaced the sword onto his frame, this time attaching it to his side.  Then he followed Ratchet towards the stairs which led to the living quarters.

As they entered the room, Ratchet motioned over to one of a set of cushioned chairs next to a table.  "Sit yourself right there, while I fetch some engex."

Without waiting to see if the other mech complied, Ratchet headed over to the cooler and grabbed a couple bottles of copper-flavored engex.  _Might as well offer the good stuff_ , he thought, _as I may not get the opportunity again any time soon._

He reached into the cupboard just above it and pulled out a pair of cups, then walked back over to his guest, and set down both the engex and cups on the table.  "Help yourself," he offered.

"Thank you," the still unknown mech replied.  He poured a small amount of engex into one of the cups and sipped at it.  Immediately, his optics brightened.  "I don't recall the last time I had flavored engex," he said, dropping the formal tone for the first time since his arrival.  "Again, I thank you, medic."

Ratchet chuckled.  "Think nothing of it," he replied.  "And the designation is Ratchet."

For the briefest of moments, he thought he saw a startled flicker pass through the mech's optics, but it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure he hadn't imagined it.

Before he could go any further along that train of thought, the flier had composed himself enough to reply, "It is good to meet you Ratchet.  My designation is Wing."

"Wing," Ratchet repeated.  "That sounds like a...fitting name for a flier." 

A rueful smile crossed Wing's features.  "You can be honest, Ratchet.  I know it is not a very imaginative designation, to be sure."

"Certainly isn't," the medic agreed.  "But I've heard worse designations."  Shifting the subject slightly, he asked, "So what brings you to Cybertron, Wing?"

The rueful smile was replaced by a pensive expression, as Wing glanced down at the sword which was now propped up against his chair.  "I had heard the war was over," he began slowly, "and I wished to see what changes had come to Cybertron since the peace began."

 _A pat story_ , Ratchet mused.  Aloud he said, "There has to be more to it than that.  I can tell by how you speak that you're of a higher social rank, and most of those fled Cybertron during the Exodus.  The majority haven't returned here."

His words brought the flier up short, judging by the way he briefly stiffened at the medic's words.  The pensive expression remained on his face, and his gaze turned to the half-shuttered window and the storm outside, allowing a silence to settle between them.

For a few kliks, Ratchet allowed the silence to continue, just sipping at his engex.  He knew from experience that some subjects were too difficult to speak of, and apparently he'd hit on one such, if Wing's reaction had been any indication.  Ratchet would admit he wasn't always the most patient of mechs, but even he understood was best to allow the other mech to take this at his own pace.

Finally, the flier looked back at Ratchet, his optics now slightly dimmer than they'd been before Ratchet had made his observation.  Picking up his cup again, he replied, "You would be correct.  I do have another purpose for being here."  He took a sip of his engex.

Ratchet nodded.  "I'm listening."

"I hail from one of the colonies created following the Exodus.  Some time ago, I was exiled from said colony, due to inadvertently placing it in danger."

This information made Ratchet frown, not quite sure how to respond to that.  Before he could come up with anything, though, Wing continued,  "I was a member of the Circle of Light."  Ratchet's optics widened at that revelation, but Wing was now looking down at his cup and hadn't noticed.  "When we left Cybertron, it was with the express purpose of trying to preserve Cybertron's culture.  We found a planet and created an underground colony, in order to better conceal ourselves.  Not all of us agreed with the decision, myself included, but the majority believed it was the best option for concealment we had."

The Autobot CMO could see the logic behind that decision.  Still..."What if someone stumbled across you by accident?  Plus, there would also be the issue of supplies.  Would be hard to stay hidden once you ran out of the necessities."

Wing shook his head.  "One would think so, but we had some clever techs among our people.  We managed to survive.  But I thought we should be doing more than that.  I felt we needed to be following the tenets of our order which stated that the protection of all life was the main priority.  Dai Atlas believed that self-protection was more important.  And his word was considered final on the matter.  Most supported his position."

Ratchet, who remembered Dai Atlas well enough from his orns of being a medic for the Senate, couldn't say he was too surprised to hear this.  The mech had cared for Cybertron, to be sure, and was one of of the better senators that the planet had ever had.  His refusal to fight had disappointed Optimus, but given everything that had happened leading to the start of the war, Ratchet hadn't been surprised that Dai had chosen a different path.  He'd probably felt the war was futile and pointless, and preferred to protect the idea of what the world should be.

He hadn't been wrong, perhaps, Ratchet reflected, but there was no doubt the mech could be inflexible on those issues he felt strongly about.  Wing seemed like he had once been a little more idealistic.  And when views like that clashed, there was often no room for compromise.

But that was a line of thought for another time, he decided, as he tuned back in to Wing's story.

"One night, I found a mech at a base known for slavers.  A Decepticon.  He had been injured and I stated I would help him with repairs if he would help me with the slavers.  He agreed." 

Ratchet raised a browridge.  "Not a smart move, kid."

The rueful smile from earlier reappeared.  "I should have known better, perhaps, but I only saw an opportunity to help and knew I needed assistance to complete that job."

"And did you?"

"Yes.  Though not before he tried to renege on his bargain with me and was injured further in the process."

Ratchet shook his head.  "I would probably have left him once he'd betrayed me."

"Dai Atlas certainly thought I should have," Wing replied softly.  "Maybe he was right, as it turned out.  The Decepticon was healed, and I was ordered to keep an optic on him until he recovered.  During that time, I tried to teach him our ways and methods of fighting.  He seemed to be interested, truly he did.  Or perhaps it was only what I wanted to see."  He took another sip of his engex.  "He was offered a deal by a mech called Lockdown, who was looking for the Circle of Light with the intent of handing us over to the slavers.  He chose to warn us instead."

Ratchet felt somewhat confused now.  If the Decepticon had decided to help after all, what would make Wing doubt him?

The question was answered with Wing's next words.

"Dai Atlas wouldn't help, so the mech and I went out to face the slavers.  I was injured, dangerously so, during the fight.  When I finally came out of stasis, it was a few decacycles later and the mech was gone, the slavers destroyed."

Another sip.  "Dai Atlas told me he saw what had happened to me and sent out a small contingent to help.  During the fight, the mech fled, leaving me to my death, Dai said."

"Why would he just leave you there, especially since he'd decided to warn you when he didn't have to?  I may not like the Decepticons, but even I can see something doesn't add up in Dai's explanation," Ratchet replied.

"I have no answer to that," Wing replied quietly.  "All I do know is what Dai told me.  He went on to say that I had brought our colony closer to discovery than it had ever been, and since the mech called Lockdown had escaped, the danger was still too real to be ignored.  He and the rest of the Circle leadership had decided that as soon as I recovered, I was to leave the colony and could never return to it."

The smile now became bitter.  "And ever since then, I have been on my own."

He set the cup down once more and leaned back in his seat.  "I have since been traveling, helping others and trying to find some purpose in the universe.  I...have found it to be a much harder place than I ever expected it to be.  When I heard not too long ago that Cybertron was now at peace and trying to rebuild ties with the universe, I decided to see what changes had taken place.  And perhaps...finding out if the mech I helped so long ago is still alive; and if so, why he acted as he did."

"I see," Ratchet replied, taking another sip of his cup, then setting it down on the table as well.  In a more serious tone, he continued, "You know, kid, there's every possibility that mech is dead by now.  And even if he isn't, sometimes there are no good answers to be had."

An old, world-weary expression appeared in Wing's optics.  "I know, but I need to try, if only to see if I can find some peace of mind.  Or understanding.  At this point, I will take either."

A soft intake escaped his vents.  "There is truly nothing left for me but that, Ratchet."

Ratchet felt a twinge of pity for the flier.  He'd felt so strongly in his ideals and had paid a high price for them.  It didn't seem fair that those of good Sparks were the ones that had to suffer the most for doing what was right, but that was the universe for you, he thought grimly.  And it just continued to prove to him that Primus simply couldn't exist, not if good mechs had to suffer for no real purpose that the medic could understand.

In any case, there was at least something he could do to help.

Leaning forward, he stated, "There's a database at the main government building which has a record of all those who have been known to have survived the war on both sides.  It's consistently being updated regarding statuses as we learn more information."

A glint of interest appeared in the mech's optics.  Ratchet smiled as he noticed it and went on:  "If you'd like, I'll take you there after the storm has passed and we can look up the designation of this Decepticon of yours.  See if we can determine whether or not he's still among the functioning, and you can decide your next course of action from there."

"I...would like that...Thank you," Wing said warmly, a small smile appearing on his face.

"In the meantime, it doesn't seem like this storm is going to let up before the morning cycle, from the looks of it out there," Ratchet said, glancing out the window.  "So once we're done with this engex, I have a spare room I can offer you for recharge."

Wing seemed to hesitate, perhaps not wanting to intrude on his host any longer than necessary, but Ratchet forestalled any protests by lifting up his hand.  "It's no problem.  I don't get a lot of company, and judging from that story you told, you seem like you could use a chance to just sit and rest for a short while."

Wing chuckled now.  "When put that way, how could I refuse?"  Leaning forward to pick up his cup once more, he said, "I will return the favor to you one orn for what you have done for me this evening."

Ratchet chuckled himself and picked up his own cup again, along with the bottle.  "You can start by telling me a little about your travels.  Always of interest to me to learn more about the galaxy," he replied.

"I think I can arrange that," Wing replied pleasantly as he held out his cup.

Ratchet smiled as he poured some additional engex into Wing's cup and then his own.  As the two leaned back in their seats and continued talking, Ratchet couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased by the evening's events.  He might not have made it to Maccadam's tonight, but he'd at least been able to help someone in need, and that was something to be proud of.

And maybe he could introduce Wing to Drift while they were at the government building.  Knowing how much the mech seemed wistful about not having anyone to spar with where he could use those swords of his, he'd probably appreciate meeting someone else who could use them.  He'd been teaching Rodimus, and the kid seemed to be doing passably well, according to what he'd heard, but even Ratchet could tell that Rodimus was nowhere near Drift's level.

Yeah, he'd probably do those introductions, Ratchet thought with an inward grin.

He was looking forward to it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got slightly longer than I expected, but not displeased with how it turned out. Hope you all liked this first (and probably only) attempt at IDW.


	4. Jazz & Prowl:  The Lucky Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Request 1_   
>  _Bay_
> 
> _Transformers Jazz/Prowl. Fix it fic. I hate that Jazz died so much. And that Prowl never managed to show up. If you could write something where Jazz lives, or even better if Jazz and Prowl could be reunited."_
> 
> Well, I gave it a shot, but Bayverse is something I write so seldom for with good reason. Hope this short piece will be enough to satisfy you. This is set a couple months following the TF 2k7 movie.
> 
> There will be a line or two of dialogue from the movie within. Jazz's rank for Movieverse is also correct. It is somewhat unclear about Prowl's rank, though he seems to have been a lieutenant for Optimus also, therefore, I have made him the Chief Tactical Officer.

* * *

_"Chances are when said and done_  
_Who'll be the lucky ones who make it all the way?”_  
― Five for Fighting, _Chances_

* * *

_**Sonoran Desert, Arizona (Late Summer 2007)** _

_::Optimus Prime to Jazz.::_

_::Jazz here.  What's up, Prime?::_

_::We have a newly arrived Autobot on base.::_

If Jazz hadn't been in his alt-mode, he would have grinned at the information.  _::No kiddin'?  That' some good news right there, Prime!::_

And there was no doubt they needed some, he reflected.  Even though Starscream had fled the scene of the battle at Mission City (and good riddance to bad rubbish, as the humans said), there had still been an edge of tension in the air.  The fragger would be returning, they all knew that well enough, the question was when he would.  And who he would bring with him to avenge his leader's death.

Many in the government of this particular sector of the planet didn't really believe the Decepticons would return, Jazz knew.  They believed the weaponry they'd used on Scorponok and the other Decepticons (sabot rounds, Jazz had heard them called) would be an effective deterrent to any invading army.  For his own part, while Jazz agreed the weapons were effective enough, the 'Cons had other means of attacking besides head-on.  Soundwave, for instance, knew how to take control of machinery on a circuit and Spark deep level.  The humans wouldn't stand a chance once he arrived.  And given what had happened to Frenzy, Jazz knew that the mech would be furious and looking for revenge for his symbiont, not only for his leader.

There was also no way to know how long Starscream would be away, and if he came back in force before they could be ready for his return, they were in deep slag.  They had too few Autobots on the planet.  Five just weren't going to be able to handle a full-scale invasion.

Their recent victory had been narrow enough as it was, Jazz thought with a shudder, remembering what had nearly happened to him...

>   _"Do you want a piece of me?! Do you want a piece-"_  
>  _"NO! I want TWO!"_

He shuddered again, and forced the memory file back, responding to his own leader as he did so:  _::We know who's comin'?::_

A low chuckle came over the comm.  _::I think you should see for yourself, Jazz.  I know you enjoy your drives, but if you wouldn't mind returning to base to greet our latest arrival...?::_

Now _that_ was curious.  But knowing that he wouldn't be getting any information out of Prime when he spoke in _that_ particular tone, he inwardly shrugged and did a quick 180 turn on the deserted road.  _::Sure thing, OP.  I'm on my way back.::_

_::Stay safe, Jazz.::_

_::Will do, OP.  Jazz out.::_

_Strange that Prime wouldn't tell me who's here_ , Jazz thought as he sped back along the roads towards Hoover Dam.  _Wonder what's goin' on?_

* * *

_**Hoover Dam** _

"Hey, OP!  I'm back!  Now what was so important...?"  Jazz's voice trailed off as he walked into the base and saw the mech standing beside his leader.  His jaw dropped.  _No way..._ "Prowl?!"

The Autobot's Chief Tactical Officer smirked coolly.  "Hello, Jazz.  It has been quite some time."

 _No fraggin' kiddin',_ the Autobot SIC thought, his mind somewhat still in a state of shock.  Trying to hide that fact, he said, "Sure has.  Haven't seen ya since we left Cybertron ta follow the All-Spark."  He grinned.  "How ya been, Prowlie?"

A raised browridge and the smirk fading away to be replaced by a more sour expression were to be expected, Jazz mused.  As was Prowl's verbal response:  "You know I hate that nickname, Jazz."

 _Yeah, well, I nearly died a couple of this planet's months ago, so ya can put up with me callin' ya whatever I want_ , was the sharp retort that sprung immediately to Jazz's mind.  But he quashed it down in favor of a more neutral one.  Prowl didn't deserve to hear the news that way, after all.  "Why, Prowlie, you know you'd miss it if I called you anything else," he replied in a smooth tone.

"As much as I would miss a rust infection," Prowl returned with a grimace.

Jazz grinned widely as Optimus Prime chuckled.  The Autobot leader then turned his attention to Jazz, his face and optics becoming more serious.  "I need to inform our liaisons about Prowl's arrival.  If you wouldn't mind showing him around our current base and bringing him up to date with what has happened here on Earth?"

As pleased he was to see his old friend again, something in Jazz stiffened at Optimus' order, and the grin faded away.  He'd kind of hoped Boss Bot would be willing to fill Prowl in on the events of Mission City, but it looked like that wouldn't be happening.  "Sure, OP," he said, forcing a nonchalant tone.  "No problem."

Apparently, he hadn't been casual enough, if Prowl's suddenly sharp look was any indication.  But before the other mech could make any further response, Optimus nodded and said, "Very well, I shall leave him in your capable hands, Jazz.  Excuse me, if you would."

Jazz and Prowl stood in silence as their leader walked away.  Once he was gone, Jazz forced himself to smile.  "So...Guess I'm supposed ta show ya around," he said.  He turned away from the other mech.  "Follow me."

As he started walking towards the interior of the base, Jazz could feel a pair of cool blue optics staring hard at his back.  For a moment, he thought the other mech wasn't going to follow, but the sound of footsteps behind him soon dispelled that notion.

 _Goin' ta be a damn long day_ , the silver mech thought bleakly.

* * *

Over the next few hours, Jazz showed Prowl around the base, showing him where everything was, along with introducing him to those of their human allies who were present that day.  Prowl had seemed less than impressed with the humans, and the look on his face when he was shown the computers the humans used indicated exactly what he thought of the level of their technology.  Still, he'd been fairly diplomatic when the humans spoke to him, asking him what he thought.  But whenever Prowl tried to get him to speak of what had happened on Earth, as per OP's order, Jazz found new areas or people to introduce Prowl to.

In an act of desperation, Jazz had finally dropped off Prowl with Ratchet, so the medic could check to see if all his systems were running well, along with advise him on getting him an alt-mode.  He'd quickly made his excuses and headed off to sit outside the base.

Sitting on top of the dam and staring down at the river below, he cursed himself for being a coward.

_Frag it all._

He knew exactly why he'd acted that way, too.  Prowl had been his best friend and confidant for years.  They'd never been lovers, but they'd been about as close to it as you could get.  There was no good way to tell your best friend in the world that you'd nearly died because you'd done something stupid.

And it really _had_ been stupid to take on Megatron like that, Jazz knew.  Boss Bot had often warned them about facing Megatron alone, something that had been drummed into their heads for vorns but had been more strongly reinforced by what happened to Bumblebee.

How Ratchet had pulled off the miracle that had kept him alive, Jazz didn't know.  While there was a part of him that wanted to, he also was afraid of learning just how close it had actually been.

There was also the matter of what had happened with the AllSpark.  The Solstice had no idea how he was supposed to tell Prowl that the "fighting chance" he'd spoken of had turned into nothing more than so much slag.

_Damn it._

"Jazz."

He jerked slightly as he heard his name spoken.  Turning behind him to see Prowl standing there, he tried to break the tension.  Forcing a grin to his face, he said, "Frag it all, mech!  You don't need ta live up ta your designation all the time, ya know!"

An impassive expression with a raised browridge was his only response, followed by the Tactical Officer turning his gaze out towards the landscape that Jazz had just been staring at.

Seeing he wasn't going to get a response, Jazz too turned his gaze out towards the barren land around them.  For a few minutes, neither spoke, just quietly staying in each other's company.

Finally, Jazz broke the silence.  "I'm guessin' you talked to Ratchet?"  He turned to look up at his old friend.

A flicker of pain passed through Prowl's optics.  "I have, yes."  He shifted his face to meet Jazz's gaze.  "He has informed me of everything."

He didn't need to specify what he meant by that.  Jazz could guess all too well.  "I just didn't know how ta tell ya, Prowl.  I'm still dealin' with it all myself."

A bitter smile appeared on Prowl's face.  "I understand the reasoning behind it, but to know that Cybertron's welfare was sacrificed as it was is not an easy thing to hear, regardless."  The Praxian's door wings flicked slightly in agitation.  "Neither was the fact that you were very nearly killed by Megatron."

Jazz's visor flashed.  "I won't deny it wasn't one of my better decisions," he admitted.  "I just...thought I could buy some time for Prime ta do what he needed ta do.  Didn't work out quite that way."  A bitter smile of his own appeared on his face.  "I haven't even asked Ratchet how he managed ta save my life.  Not sure I really want ta know how close I came to rejoining the Well."

"Understandable," Prowl murmured as the smile faded away.  "Even for me, it wasn't easy to hear, either.  It is never easy to hear of the death or near-death of a valued comrade and friend.  Not to mention we have suffered too many losses as it is."

Something in Prowl's tone made Jazz frown.  "It's gotten bad, hasn't it?"

Prowl's doorwings flickered again.  "We are very near extinction, Jazz.  Our numbers are around a few thousand now.  Total on both sides."

Jazz felt cold.  "And with the AllSpark gone..." 

He didn't need to finish the sentence.  "Yes," Prowl replied.

"Slag," Jazz hissed.  "Prime know?"

"Not yet.  I will tell him myself this evening.  There are also rumors that Starscream is trying to recreate the AllSpark.  I didn't credit them until I heard what Ratchet told me."

Jazz cursed the Seeker internally, then he frowned as the implication of Prowl's words sank in.  "Other scientists have tried ta do that.  I heard that from Perce once.  Even before the war, there were attempts ta harness the AllSpark's power, and none of them worked.  What makes him think he'll have any more success?"

"I don't know, Jazz."  Prowl's optics dimmed.  "I just don't know."

Jazz grimaced.  None of this was very good news.  With Prowl here, they might be able to turn the tide of the war, but what were they doing it for now?  Even with Megatron gone, the fighting was still apparently going to continue.

Before he could continue further down that trail of thought, Prowl spoke once more.  "I am told I need to blend in here, and require an alt-mode that resembles one of the human's vehicles."

He smirked.  "I don't suppose you would mind introducing me to the area so that we can find a suitable one for me?"

Jazz grinned.  "I think that can be arranged."

As they headed inside and down to the front entrance of the dam facility, Jazz couldn't help but feel a bit lighter than he had been the past few hours in spite of the grim situation.

Yeah, things might look bad right now, but at least he had his best friend here to share the burden with.

And that made all the difference in the world.

Reaching the front entrance, he turned and grinned at Prowl.

"Ready ta roll?"

Prowl's doorwings flicked and a glimmer of amusement appeared in his optics.  "Of course."

He transformed into his Cybertronian vehicle mode.  "Ready when you are."

Jazz grinned and followed suit, becoming a silver Pontiac Solstice.

Yeah, in spite of everything, they were together.

And with luck, they'd stay that way, no matter how the war ended for them.

He laughed internally.

"Then let's roll out, partner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is a wrap.
> 
> I will also go on to say that I have no plans to develop any of these further at this time. Too many other projects planned or in progress right now.
> 
> I won't object if anyone does feel tempted enough to continue with an idea put forward in here. All I ask is that the proper credit be given.
> 
> And with that, I say thanks for reading!


End file.
